A mutual feeling
by KTtheLuvAddict
Summary: Jareth and Sarah tend to overthink things...especially love. One-shot


"_It's only forever, not long at all…"_

His voice rang in her ears still. To this very day, she can recall the look he gave her as they spun around the glittering glass ballroom. It hurts, just a bit. It hurts to think that she could have had all that. He would have waited. He would have given her a piece of his labyrinth. He would have let her stay there until she was old enough to truly feel what he felt for her. He would have given her that. She knew that there were many plot holes in that scenario. What would have happened to the screaming baby? Sure, the brave heroine would have gotten her handsome king, but she knew as well as he that it wouldn't have been perfect. There was the matter of his agelessness, his fae nature, his title. It was odd to her that he didn't seem to care about those things. There were times when she was feeling sorry for herself that she would think "He was just playing with my emotions. He was trying to distract me…" but as soon as those thoughts crossed her mind, she knew they weren't true. He had told her himself. He had reordered time for her. He had turned the world upside down, and she had left him thinking that it wasn't enough. In truth, it hadn't been enough. Toby was more important than fancy ball gowns and dare she think it, _true love. _

"When have you been generous?" she had asked. She saw the hurt in his eyes. She saw the way he tried to search in hers to see if she truly meant what she said. If she truly meant that she hadn't seen his kindness. He had only taken what she had willingly given away. He had only frightened her because she dared him to. "It's a piece of cake." She had practically begged him for the cleaners. She blamed herself. She never realized that in her self-loathing and crying fits, he was feeling the same way.

He should have tried harder. He should have given her more options. He should have begged her not to go. All those things flashed across his mind day after day, month after month, year after year. He needed her. The little red book said so. He knew how it had to end. She would triumph over evil because she was so inexplicably good. He would be defeated and the child returned. But he had hoped that there was some part of her that regretted her decision. Not enough that she would hate herself. Just enough that she would think of him time to time. He wondered if she really meant what she had said. "You have no power over me…" sure, he didn't have power in the magical sense of the word. But he wondered if she had meant it in a romantic way as well. After all, love was extremely powerful. But who was he kidding? She was just a child, a teenage girl. They were so very fickle. She would have sworn her love for him just as soon as she would swear her love for a mortal actor or musician. He could never expect that kind of emotion from her. It was wrong and twisted for him to think so. He only hoped that there had been something. Something that would prove that she had felt at least one ounce of the feeling he felt while looking at her.

She never saw him. They never spoke. He would sit in the little coffee shop and watch her scribble away in her little notebook. She was so beautiful. Her dark hair spilling across the table as she leaned in to scrutinize something she had written. He longed to comb his fingers through her hair. She was twenty two now. She had a job and a life and possibly even a boyfriend. His fists would clench in anger when he wondered if she was with anyone. He never followed her home; never saw where she had moved to when she left her father and stepmothers house. The only time he saw her was in those few blissful yet frustrating moments in the coffee shop. There were desperate times when he thought about interrupting her scribbling, reaching down and pulling her face to his and yelling "I AM HERE! DO YOU NOT REMEMBER ME?" that would only frighten her of course. But he had considered it, none the less. Those were his terrible moments. Those were the moments when he truly hated himself. He was a king for God's sake! He should be able to speak to the woman he loved. But she was so much braver and stronger than him. She had proven that. He didn't deserve such a woman. He didn't deserve such perfection. It was terribly ironic that someone who takes great pleasure in snatching away beautiful and wonderful things couldn't have the one thing that was more beautiful and wonderful then all the rest. Not that she was a _thing_. No, she was never just an object. She was Sarah William's, Champion of the Labyrinth. She was everything, and he couldn't take it any longer…

"Sarah…" he said quietly. He hated how frightened his voice sounded. She was scribbling away at a small leather bound notebook. She didn't look up at first. He never grew impatient though. She could have as long as she wanted. Fortunately, she did look up after a few seconds.

"Yes?" she asked curiously. She didn't seem to recognize him for a second. He did look different, after all. No cape, shorter hair, and an ego that had been squashed like a cockroach. Truly, he was hardly recognizable. But then, mercifully (or not) her eyes cleared and she covered her mouth with her hand. A small gasp escaped her.

"You! I…what are you doing here?" she had jumped to her feet. He had meant to tell her that that was unnecessary, to not get up on his account. But her question had stopped him short.

"I…well, I came to see you." He mumbled. God, he had never mumbled in his life. What this woman did to him! Her green eyes widened and he flinched away from her, fearing another round of memorized lines from a storybook. To his amazement, she smiled.

"I was wondering when this day would come." She said. He froze. She had? Did that mean…? No. It couldn't. Surely she only meant that she had been wondering when she would get another chance to lay siege on his kingdom.

"You were?" he asked, feeling like an idiot.

"Of course I was!" she said, her smile growing. "I've missed you, Jareth." And she truly meant it. He could tell. They spent the rest of that day together. And they spent the day after. They would meet every day at the coffee shop. He doubted that she enjoyed that time as much as he did. It saved him though. The more time he spent with her, the more he knew that she was, as cliché as it sounds…_his true love. _But of course, he had always known that. And so had she. Luckily, this time, the feeling was a mutual one…


End file.
